


A Kissing Game

by alexandriakeating



Series: Lonely Hearts Come Together [2]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Jareth crosses the line and fears he's screwed everything up, Sarah has a bit of fun, they're both little shits at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1932303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandriakeating/pseuds/alexandriakeating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Year is quickly closing in and Sarah won't let Jareth kiss her until he's found the right tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kissing Game

**Author's Note:**

> Orignally posted on Fanfiction during New Year's. Moving it over here.

Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Eyes fluttered behind her closed lids. Dark hair splayed across her white pillow. Her limbs tangled in the white sheets. Her pink lips parted ever so slightly to allow her breath to escape. A light blush dusted her cream cheeks.

Jareth stepped up to the side of her bed and tenderly stroked the back of a gloved hand across her warm cheek, a surge of passion and protectiveness washing over him.

A gentle moan passed the sleeping woman's lips and she shifted positions, curling into the fetal position and pulling the sheet up to her chin. A smile tugged at the corner of the man's lips. She was still so childlike, so innocent, so gentle.

And she was his.

He still couldn't believe it.

Five nights ago, when she had stepped away from him, he had feared that she would leave him, that she would reject him again and he wouldn't be permitted to even look after any more.

_She had taken a deep breath and pulled herself together. "You had no power over me when I was fifteen, and to this day you still don't," she had said and his heart had fallen._

_She was going to leave him._

_He had just told her his heart, his dreams. He had just told her the loneliness that had clawed at his heart in the same fashion it had clawed at hers._

_And she was going to leave him._

_The sadness that had befallen him crushed him under its weight. The day she had first said those words hadn't been this bad._ If I survive this grief, _he had thought,_ I'll have to stop risking my heart.

" _But, despite that, you—you stayed with me," she continued._

Yes, of course I did,  _he had thought._  Now stop trying to soften the blow,  _he had willed her, but she still continued on._

" _You may have had no power, but that didn't drive you from my side, even if your presence was less than desirable at times. You never did anything, but you stayed there, for support. And for that, for not leaving my side, I thank you—Jareth."_

_She had said his name. She was thanking him. She wasn't rejecting him._ She may never return my feelings, _he rationalized,_  but at least she isn't banishing me from her side.  _"And I will never leave it," he said holding out a hand to her. "Shall I bring you home, precious?"_

Let me stay by your side a little longer,  _he had willed her._  Don't let me be lonely any more.

_And then she had taken his hand. Her small, delicate hand fit perfectly within his own._

_And she had accepted him. He could stay by her side a little longer._

Green eyes fluttered open and met his. Still bleary with sleep, they took a moment to focus on him. Sarah rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes and sat up; her hair tangled and wilder than his. As her clear emerald eyes landed on him, a smile danced across her face.

"Morning," she whispered in a voice husky from lack of use the past several hours.

"Good morning, precious," he replied gently, sitting on the edge of the bed near her feet.

She pulled her legs out from underneath the sheets and crawled over next to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.

"Aren't you cold?" he remark as he took in her sleeping wear: a simple pair of shorts and a tank-top.

"Mmm, a little," she said as she snuggled closer to him.

Jareth chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into his chest. "Better, precious?"

She sighed, her warm breath brushing across his chest sending another wave of protectiveness and passion coursing through him. "Yes," she mumbled against his chest. "How long do you have today?"

"Not enough time," he replied as he pressed his lips against her wild hair.

"You could just bog everyone and not worry about things for today."

Jareth threw his head back and laughed, Sarah joining in with quiet giggles. "For today perhaps, but what of tomorrow? I'd have to deal with the stench plaguing my Labyrinth. I'm sure the neighboring kingdoms would complain as well. Then I'd have to spend countless hours away from you in meetings—"

"Okay, okay," she exclaimed pulling back, "I get it. Bogging everyone's a bad idea."

"I never said it was a bad idea, precious," he countered.

She pouted. "You said that you "would have to spend countless hours away" from me. Wouldn't that constitute it as a bad idea?"

"I still never labeled it as such."

Sarah bit her lip in frustration and jumped off the bed. "Fine!" she exclaimed, turning from him. "I don't get why I put up with you, Goblin King."

The man who sat on her bed smirking lost his smirk the moment his title left her mouth. He stood from her bed and put his hands on her shoulders. He turned her around to face him with difficulty but she still stubbornly refused to meet his eyes. He wrapped a hand around her chin and turned her face to his yet her eyes still stared defiantly away.

"Precious," he urged.

Nothing.

"My dear," he whispered.

Nothing.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her jawline making his way to her ear. "Sarah," he pleaded.

He felt her shiver and a smile curled his lips.

"Mmm?" she hummed.

"Forgive me?"

"I don't forgive easily, Jareth."

His smile grew wider.  _His name._  "You forgave that Higgle quick enough."

"Hoggle," she said, trying to put harshness in her voice but failing miserably.

He grazed her neck with his lips and nestled in the crook of it.

"Oh, fine, you're forgiven, Jareth. Now get off of me!"

Sulkily, he obliged but he whispered for fun, "But it's so much fun being on you."

He felt the heat of her blush spread across her body and he laughed gently even as she shoved him away exclaiming, "Stop doing that!"

"What, precious?" he inquired innocently.

Her cream face grew a deeper shade of red and she fumbled over her answer, "Talking about—speaking like we're—we're not—oh, you know!"

He pressed the back of a gloved hand to her flushed cheek, enjoying the heat that burned through the leather. "I'm sorry, precious. But as I said before, I love when you blush. I mean nothing by anything I say."

"Why do you like me blushing?" she asked, her anger abated by his touch.

_Why did he like it?_ Even he wasn't entirely sure. "The warmth. The color. You look so pretty when you're blushing." He smiled lovingly. "It also shows your innocence, precious."

His last comment invoked another blush. "I think I'm going to take a shower now," she stumbled out.

Jareth lowered his hand. "You do that, precious. But be quick. I want to spend as much time as I can with you today."

She bit her lip and nodded as she turned and entered her bathroom, locking the door behind her.

The lone man chuckled softly to himself as he heard the water turn on. He walked out of her bedroom and lounged on her couch, throwing his legs across the seats and draping an arm over the back.

This couch.  _From this couch,_   _that day had started so perfectly._

_She had lain sleeping between his legs, her head resting against his chest. He had not been able to sleep. He had wanted to enjoy every precious moment he could with her, unsure of how much longer he would be allowed to stay by her side. Unwilling to sleep, he had contented himself with running his hands through her wonderful hair. Occasionally he had lifted a strand and pressed it to his lips, kissing it tenderly and breathing in its wonderful scent._

_After she had woken up, she had eventually allowed herself to relax back into him. Her sock clad feet had brushed against his and she had begun to stroke them with hers. A thrill had surged through him as he tightened his grip on her rubbed his toes against hers. Then her eyes had brightened so beautifully has they flew to her old piano and she saw what he had done._

_She had clambered off the couch and ran to it. Her hand stretched out to touch it but then retracted. He had stood and walked to her side._

" _Go on," he had urged her and she did. As the piano's note sounded through her apartment, she had turned and thrown her arms around his neck and fiercely whispered her thanks._

_He had wrapped his arms around her and laughed gently, partially at her reaction and partially at the joy that was filling him as her scent and warmth encased him. "You're quite welcome, precious," he had whispered in her ear._

_He had felt her body vibrate wonderfully as she hummed in pleasure. "I could get used to you calling me that. I'll miss it."_

_A cold hand seized his heart._   _Miss it?_   _She was going to leave him again. He would have to leave her side. He would have to face years of loneliness once again. He had pulled back and quirked an eyebrow, for the sake of retaining his proud persona, asking, "Miss it?"_

_She had nodded and withdrew her arms from his neck, turning away from him to face the piano._

_His heart had fallen as cold air brushed against his now exposed skin._

" _You've done what you needed to do," she began to explain to the piano in front of her as she traced the keys. "You were here for me when I needed it, just like last time, even though it took so long for me to realize it. As you said last night, the goblins don't like being alone for long. Your Labyrinth will need you. I can't keep you. It would be selfish of me to do so. Don't get me wrong, I wish—" her voice stopped as she caught the words that were about to pass her lips._

" _Sarah," he implored her._ Finish the wish, _he inwardly pleaded,_  let me stay with you. Don't let me leave you. Please, be selfish. I will be selfish in return.

" _Play the end of my—our—song," she had gently requested, pulling him from his silent plea._

_He had stepped up to her, pressing himself against her back to feel her one last time if this failed. She had said "our"; there was still a chance he could stay. He had wrapped his arms around her small frame and grabbed her wrists. He had set them against the piano keys and whispered, "Tell me how this ends."_

" _But I can't play—," she had protested._

_He spread out her shorter fingers and settled his own lightly on top of hers. "Play," he commanded._ Play that we are together so that I can stay, _he willed her._

_She had stayed quiet for several moments, and he had begun to fear the worst. But he stood silently, awaiting the rejection, the separation, that was becoming inevitable. Suddenly he had felt her hands flip over and her bare palms had pressed against his gloved hands._

" _Take your gloves off."_

" _Sarah," he had begun to protest, but she cut him off with: "You wanted an end, didn't you?"_

Yes I do. _He had wanted it but he feared it. The decorum of his gloves was easily overlooked, but what gave him pause was the fear._ Damn fear,  _he had chastised himself. He had waited long enough._

_He had lifted his hands from hers and pulled them behind her. Gently, he peeled off his gloves to reveal the smooth, fresh flesh underneath. Discarding the unneeded clothing on the floor, he had returned his hands to hers. As he did so, he had heard her eyelids fluttering close, causing a smile to briefly flit across his face._

_The moment his skin touched hers another surge of emotion washed over him as a sigh passed her lips. He had loved the feel of his skin on hers, but this wasn't an end. "Precious, how is this an end to the song?" he had questioned._

_And then, oh then, came one moment that he constantly played over in his mind. She had entwined her fingers through his and pressed her wrist to his, allowing him to feeling her fluttering heartbeat._

_An unbidden gasp had passed his lips as his heartbeat easily fell in step with hers._

" _It's the only instrument I have," she had explained quietly._

" _Sarah," he had choked out._

" _I'm sorry, Jareth. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize how—how alike we were. We really did have the same dream. To be cared for and care for, to be loved and to love, to have a companion. But, I can't allow—,"_

That's it.  _His passion no longer had allowed him to stand silently as she continued on, admitting their dream but refusing it to happen. He had pulled his hands from hers and grasped her shoulders, turning her around to look into his eyes. He saw his emotions reflected in hers and needed no more encouraging. He had pulled her into him and encased her in his arms. She had pressed her cheek against his chest, and he felt his heartbeat matching hers, playing out the end of their song, uniting their dream, uniting them. His dream. Her dream._ Our dream.

_He had pressed a finger under her chin and tilted her face upwards towards him, smiling down at her as he finally brushed his lips against hers. His fingertips had grazed her jaw as he had entwined them into her long chestnut hair, the feel of it between his bare hands more wonderful than between his gloved._

_She had clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. Her fingertips had lightly brushed against his exposed chest before she had pushed her hands up his chest and clutched his shoulders. She had arched into him, fitting perfectly against him and deepening the kiss._

_He had felt whole._

_He had felt complete._

_He had felt a part of something._

_And he had felt sure that the young woman whose lips desperately clung to his had the same emotions stirring in her heart._

Jareth heard the water shut off in the bathroom. He smiled once again at the memory of the kiss.  _Yes,_  he thought, _this certainly is a wonderful end, a wonderful dream come true._  He flicked a wrist and a clear crystal appeared in his awaiting palm. It popped and small green branch with oval leaves and white berries rested in its place.

He had seen this hanging in doorways around Christmas and men had pulled unsuspecting women under it before kissing them. It was odd, but he wouldn't write it off as insane if it got him another kiss from Sarah.

The determined man stood and walked to the doorway that led to Sarah's bedroom. He reached up and stuck it on the top of the doorframe. Once it was in place, he lazily propped an elbow on the doorframe and waited for the chestnut haired beauty to emerge from the bathroom.

After what seemed an endless amount of time waiting, she finally stepped out of the steam filled bathroom, her fingers running through her damp hair.

He smiled at her jeans and t-shirt as she remained oblivious of him. She had quickly taken to getting dressed in the bathroom when she had stepped out of the bathroom in a towel a couple days prior to find him lounging patiently on her bed.

Sarah tossed her damp, untangled hair over her shoulder and looked up. Her green eyes landed on him and she smiled, her energy and playfulness returned. No sign of her previous embarrassment and fluster anywhere in her manner.

"Did you wait long?" she inquired, slipping her arms around his waist

"Terribly long, precious," he responded in mock pain, throwing a hand to his breast and clutching his heart.

She smiled gently at his antics.

Jareth watched as her eyes slowly rose to the small branch above her head. She squinted her eyes and asked. "Is that—?"

He smiled. "Yes, precious."

"But," she began to say, bringing her eyes back to his.

He didn't let her finish as he snaked his arms around her waist and leaned forward, but Sarah pulled back and waved a finger in front of his face.

"Oh no you don't!" she tsked playfully.

Jareth pouted and looked up at the sprig of mistletoe that dangled above their heads. "I thought this was one of your traditions."

The chestnut haired woman untangled herself from his arms. She crossed hers under her breasts and explained, "A Christmas tradition. There is an entirely different one for this time of the year."

His mismatched eyes returned to her green ones. "Shall I take it then that you won't let me kiss you, precious?"

"Not until you find the right tradition," she replied, kissing his jawline cheekily.

He growled. "You, my dear Sarah, are infuriating."

She gently laughed, her warm breath tickling his neck. "That's what you get if you want me by your side. You could always go back to being lonely."

Fear clutched his heart in an icy grip. Jareth grasped ahold of her shoulders fiercely and pulled her away. His eyes took on a steely look as they bored into hers. "Don't you ever return me to that prison," he hissed. He couldn't be pushed from her side. Not now.

Fear flashed behind her emerald eyes, and the king instantly regretted his actions. His eyes softened and loosened his grip on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, precious. I have no intention of being lonely again. You leaving me is my greatest fear."

She bit her soft, pink bottom lip and stepped forward against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her soft cheek against his chest. "I have no intention of leaving. You stayed by my side. I'll stay by your side. We share the same dream."

He smiled down at her and brought a hand to her chin. Gently cupping it, he turned her face upwards until her bright eyes met his. "What did I ever do to deserve you, precious?" he asked tenderly as he leaned forward once again.

Instead of his lips meeting her soft, warm ones they connected with a smooth finger. "Nah-a," she tsked again.

He growled and pulled his head up, glaring down at her.

"Why did I lose my heart to such an infuriating woman?" he muttered.

She smiled coyly, "Because you enjoy a challenge. And I challenge you."

He smiled devilishly down at the beautiful woman in his arms, "Yes, you do precious. But you still have pliable moments."

He watched amused as a pink flush spread across her cream cheeks for the umpteenth time since their reunion.  _Dear God,_  he thought, _I love that._

Her eyes skirted away for a moment before they dared to meet his again. "I have a challenge for you Goblin King."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, you do?"

"Yes. I challenge you to discover the New Year's tradition that will let you kiss me. Do you accept?"

"Of course I do, precious."

She glanced briefly at her watch before turning her eyes back to his. "You have forty hours in which to solve this challenge, before these lips are lost to you this year."

"Do I get one last kiss?"

Sarah stood on her toes, letting her lips hover tantalizingly close to his, before she pulled away and slipped from his arms. "No," she said.

"My dear, you can be so cruel."

She smirked. "Yes. Now what do you want to do in the small amount of time I have with you before you are whisked away from me?"

He sighed and turned from her, reentering the living room with Sarah close on his heels. He plopped onto the couch in a very unkingly manner. She stopped in front of him and put her hands on her hips. "Well?" she asked.

Jareth sat up far enough to snake his arms around her waist, and he pulled her down his lap, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her. "We could just enjoy each other company," he suggested.

The woman in his arms leaned back into his chest and nestled her head under his chin. "Sounds wonderful."

Jareth leaned forward a slipped an arm under her legs and hefted them onto the couch, sprawling them out to the side. Sarah shifted and laid her head on his leg. She raised a hand and began to idly draw circles on his knee. He, in turn, rested his hand on her arm and gently trailed it up and down her smooth flesh.

As they remained there in companionable silence, he allowed his mind to drift over her challenge.

* * *

His goblins weren't helping him in this endeavor. They prattled about noisily, trudging through the throne room without a thought of concern for their king.

Jareth lounged in his throne with a leg casually tossed over one of its arms, a hand on his jaw in thought as he absentmindedly tapped his riding crop against the sole of his boot.

_A tradition._

_What tradition?_

He had left Sarah earlier than he had planned to prowl the town for a hint of this tradition, but he all he saw were men brazenly kissing women with nothing consistent between each couple. Frustrated with his lack of discovery he had returned to his castle where the goblins had made a fowl mess of things in his few hours of absence. He had spent several hours cleaning the throne room and resolving the issues that had arisen from an egg fight among the goblins that resided in his throne room. He would have bog each one of the pesky little things if he hadn't been so eager to return to Sarah's challenge.

_Crash._

"Dat's Mizy's chicken!" a voice exclaimed.

"No, itas Shrewd's!" another responded.

"Kingy!" the two voices called together.

With a sigh, Jareth ran a hand over his face and stood from his throne. Sarah's challenge would have to wait until tomorrow. He had thirty hours left after all.

"Be quiet the both of you before I bog you without questions," he yelled as he strode towards the two bickering goblins.


	2. Time is Short

Jareth appeared in the middle of her living room. Early morning sunlight poured in from a window behind him, warming his frame. The TV was turned on to a random news station and turned low so that the only thing heard of their flapping gums a dull, undistinguishable murmur. Sarah had her back to him as she busied herself in the kitchen. A smile crept across his face as he watched her skirt about the kitchen, grabbing a frying pan, pulling seasoning out of the cabinet, grabbing two eggs from the fridge, completely oblivious to his presence. She tossed her chestnut hair over her shoulder, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to run his fingers through it.

Remaining oblivious to his presence in her apartment, she set the frying pan on the stove and turned on the burner. Slowly he walked towards her with quiet footsteps. Paying no mind to his advances, she stood with her hips on her hands waiting for the pan to heat. Taking advantage of her open stance, he slipped his arms under hers and around her waist, pulling her into him.

The woman let out a startled yelp and threw her arms up in the air. She began to struggle in his grasp, flailing in a panic. He chuckled and she seized her movements.

"Jareth," she muttered under breath.

"Yes, precious?" he murmured against her neck.

"Don't do that!"

"And why not?"

"Because I'm telling you not to," she stated firmly.

"Whatever you say, precious," he whispered against her ear as he lifted his head.

"Thank you."

Jareth sighed and leaned forward to let his lips press gently against her cheek but the chestnut haired woman slipped out of his grasp and dodged his lips exclaiming: "Oh no you don't! I haven't forgotten about your challenge."

He groaned and turned to the frying pan. He picked up an egg and cracked it on the counter. He let the egg plop in the pan with a sizzle and tossed the shell into the trash and did the same thing for the other egg.

A warm body pressed up against his back and arms snaked around his waist, holding him tightly. A dainty face buried itself into his ribs.

"Sunny side makes me yack," came Sarah's mumbled voice.

Jareth reached a hand out and grabbed a spatula that hung on a rack next to the oven. He placed it in the eggs and gave it a brief stir, dying the white liquid yellow. "Better?" he asked.

A small chin dug into his shoulder and warm breath tickled his ear as she whispered, "Perfect."

"So, precious," he began as he added various seasonings she had put out to the eggs, "am I going to get any aid in this challenge?"

"Nope, that would be cheating," came her smiling response.

"Well, that's not fair," he said with a pout. "You had Hogwart's help."

" _Hoggle,_ Jareth. And life isn't fair."

He chuckled and placed his gloved hands over Sarah's and leaned his head against hers. The two figures stood entwined thus for several moments until the pungent odor of burning eggs pulled the two apart.

"My eggs!" the woman exclaimed as she retracted her arms and scooted in front of the man. She turned the burner off, yanked the pan off it and placed it on a cold one. She picked up the spatula and pushed her eggs around, scoping out how much she could salvage. With a sigh she blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and leaned a hip against the counter, crossing her arms. "Apparently the Goblin King can run a kingdom and a Labyrinth, but he can't stop eggs from burning."

The king shrugged apologetically and smirked. "I'm a man of many responsibilities. I can only focus on the most important ones, precious."

She laughed and tossed the spatula on the counter. "You owe me a breakfast, Goblin King," she threatened playfully.

His eyes raked over her slightly clad form, a smirked tugging at his lips. "Gladly, but how about you put on something more appropriate than your bed clothes? I'd rather be the only one who gets to see you like this, precious."

A light blush danced across her cheeks and he reveled in it. "Just give me a minute," she mumbled as she brushed pass him and made her way to her bedroom, closing the door behind her small form.

Jareth allowed a smirk to take possession of his lips as he followed her path to wait outside her door. After a few moments, she emerged in dark jeans and a light blue sweater. She gave a small jump as she almost ran into his lithe frame.

"Don't do that!" she exclaimed, batting a hand against his chest.

Her smirked at her and held out an arm. "Shall we go, precious?"

A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, stirring a burning desire in him to lean over and kiss that mouth of hers despite the immediate, but no doubt brief, protests he would get from her for his actions.

But, it was a challenge. And he was not one to back down from a challenge.

She reached out a small hand and entwined it through the crook of his elbow. "Yes we shall, my king," she said simply as she nestled her head against his shoulder.

* * *

The loud clatter of plates and silverware and meaningless prattle of the crowd was beginning to grate on his nerves. He tapped his long gloved fingers impatiently against the table as he watched Sarah finish eating her breakfast. His eyes scanned the tiny—yet loud—diner once more for any sign or clue as to this tradition Sarah had dared him to find.

His gaze alighted on a young couple curled up together in a back booth kissing each other without any decorum or class but not lacking in passion. He turned his eyes outside the large window they sat next to, and he followed an older couple walking arm and arm together down the snow covered path. The old man bent over and pressed his withered lips to the greying hair of the woman on his arm who turned her face towards his with glistening eyes peering out from wizened crow's feet.

The frustrated king huffed and pulled the long, black winter coat that covered his body tighter around him as he crossed his arms. Was everything going to torment him? If things kept proving to be this frustrating, Sarah might wake up to her new year to the stench of the bog instead of his lips against hers. Better yet, he could just discover this tradition and refuse to kiss her. He inwardly smirked as he pictured her reaction, sighing at the poetic justice of the moment.

Green eyes looked up from the meal a fell on him, a smile dancing in them. Sarah set down her fork and wiped her mouth gently with a napkin. "Thinking of giving up so soon?" she questioned with and arched eyebrow.

"Certainly not, precious," he remarked. "Just think of the best way to torment you for this unneeded frustration."

Sarah gave a light laugh. "You brought this on yourself. You accepted the challenge."

"You should've known that I cannot deny a challenge when it is placed in front of me," he countered.

"That sounds like a personal problem," she returned.

He guffawed. "You have a similar, if memory serves."

"Touché."

The two fell into silence amongst the loud din of the diner as she returned to her breakfast.

A bleach blonde woman flounced up to their booth. A pink polo unbuttoned darned her top, exposing her cleavage and leaving little to the imagination. Her legs were bare expect for a short black skirt that one could hardly label clothing. She placed her hands on her hips and thrust her chest outwards, exposing even more of her breasts. She smiled sweetly down at Jareth with an inviting grin.

"Can I get you anything, dear?" she chirped. "It seems unfair for you to sit here without any food and being forced to watch that one eat." She tossed her head in Sarah's direction.

Sarah in turn choked on her bite of eggs and brought a hand to her mouth as she fell into a fit of coughs.

Jareth smirked up at the woman who stood before him.  _Perfect._ He wrapped his lithe fingers around a menu tucked to the side and set it on the table in front of it. "That's a good idea, sweetheart. What would you think I'd enjoy?"

Bright emerald eyes shot daggers at him as the endearment left his lips, deepening his smirk.

The high bun, blonde-haired woman propped a knee up on the booth seat next to the chestnut haired woman and leaned over the table to gaze at the menu, her breasts threatening to spill forth from the tight confines of her shirt.

But Jareth paid no mind to her risqué antics. His mismatched eyes were trained on the flushed, dark haired beauty across from him who had crossed her arms over her own chest and sat slumped in the booth. Her green eyes avoided his mismatched gaze as she mutter what he felt sure were obscenities under her breath. The smirk deepened even further.

"Well," the blonde trilled, fiddling with her necklace in long, taloned fingernails, "it depends on what you want."

"Something sweet," he replied, his eyes refusing to budge from the woman who begrudge him her gaze.

"Hmm," she tapped a talon against her lips. "Oh, I know!"

She reached out a finger and tapped it against the menu with a sharp  _click_. "The peach cobbler is delicious," she purred.

" _Peach_  cobbler?" he inquired with a quirked eyebrow, finally shifting his gaze to the brazen woman.

She nodded as she brought a nail to her lips and bit it.

His eyes briefly flickered to Sarah's still cross form before he smiled at the woman in front of him and said, "Sounds perfect. I'll take one."

"Great! I'll get your order." She stood up slowly and as she walked passed Jareth she let a hand trail across his shoulder. She quickly leaned in and whisper, stickily, "If you need  _anything_  else, don't be afraid to let me know."

"I'll let you know if your services are required," he said simply to her retreating form without turning to look at her.

His eyes fell on Sarah who sat at the far end of her bench, her arms crossed, and eyebrows drawn together as she stared out the window.

After a moment her green eyes flashed towards him blazing. "You are insufferable. Why do I put up with you?"

He chuckled softly. "My, my, precious. I didn't realize that you were a jealous woman."

"Don't call me that," she hissed.

"Oh," he quirked an eyebrow, puzzled by the ferocity of her words but still enjoying the jealousy that flushed her cheeks, "and why not?"

She picked up her napkin and tossed it at him. It flopped weakly against his shoulder, and he pinched between his fingers and folded it neatly on the table on front of him.

"If you toss endearments around so freely, they hold no meaning. I don't want it," she explained through clenched teeth.

_Was that it? Something so simple?_  Apparently his little bit of torture for his frustrations had been taken more seriously than he intended.

He leaned forward over the table, bringing their faces as close together as he could. "Is that all that is bothering?"

"What you mean 'all'?" she retorted.

"If that was all that was bothering about that little exchange, things are easily remedied, Sarah."

"Well, they aren't going to be easily remedied because that wasn't the only thing that bothered me," she spat.

"There were other things?"

"Of course," she sighed in aggravation. "What do you expect when you start ogling another woman in front of me?"

"I assure you," he stated simply, leaning away from her, pleased with her round-about admittance to jealousy, "I wasn't ogling. My eyes were enjoying your jealousy too much to enjoying anything she was visually offering."

A plate clinked on the table in front of him and the waitress in question left with a quick wink that went unnoticed by Jareth.

"I wasn't jealous," she stated simply.

"Oh you weren't?" he asked tauntingly.

He watched as her chest heaved with a deep breath. She bit her bottom lip and nibbled on it for a moment.

_Dear God,_  he wanted to kiss her so badly then. This challenge was proving more difficult then he foresaw.

She finally released her pink lip from her teeth with a huff; it was so slightly redder. "I don't have time for this," she mumbled.

"Sarah," he implored her, reaching across the table and pushing a stand of chestnut hair behind her ear.

"What?" she asked tersely.

"Forgive me. I was just frustrated with this challenge," he pleaded with her. He couldn't stand her like this. Her being like this meant her being upset with him. Being upset with him could lead to leaving him, and he couldn't handle the idea of being alone again.

She sighed and shook her head with a small smile. "How will I manage with you?"

"How can I manage without you?" he replied without thought.

Without reply, she stood up from the booth and began to leave. She paused and looked at her watch, a smirk dancing across her lips. "You have thirteen hours left in which to solve this challenge."

"I know," he muttered, waving a hand dismissively, shooing her and the fear that was beginning to nestle in his heart, "before your lips are lost to me." He turned from her in attempt to end the conversation. This wasn't going the way he planned.

Suddenly, a warm breath washed across his face and he discovered Sarah's lips to be hovering tauntingly above his own. "Time is short," she whispered, her warm breath rolling across his face.

Before he was able to act, she pulled back and pranced out of the dinner, a small bell above the door tinkling her exit.

_Damn this challenge,_  he thought as his fists clenched.

He'd figure it out.

He'd claim her lips.

He wouldn't be lonely this upcoming year or the years after.

Jareth picked up a fork and cut a piece of the cobbler off and placed the sweet dessert in his mouth, closing his lips around it.

_Who to question about this tradition?_  plagued his mind as he chewed slowly.

* * *

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jareth raised a gloved hand and rapped it against the white door. After a painfully long a minute, it opened to reveal a middle-aged woman with sandy hair beginning to grey around the edges. Her eyes were bright and piercing, and she carried herself with a strong dignity.

"Well, what do you want?" she bit out.

He smiled down at her, attempting to put her at ease. "My name's Jared King. I'm a, friend, of Sarah's."

The woman's eyes widen before smile spread across her features. "Oh, you are? How long have you known Sarah?"

"We met briefly when she was fifteen," he explained easily, "I fear she might have been late because of me."

The woman laughed and waved a hand. "She was late all the time through no fault but her own. She still is."

"Yes, we met then and had parted ways," he continued. "We recently stumbled upon each other again at the Christmas Eve Gala. I was practicing before I was required on stage and she stumbled in on me."

"Is that so?" a hint of doubt began to creep into her voice.

As Jareth opened his mouth to respond, a young boy poked a bright-eyed face out from the door. "Who's there, Momma?"

"A friend of Sarah's, Toby."

The young boy clutched onto his mother's leg and peered at the man before him through blonde lashes and stray pieces of wild, blonde hair that fell into his face.

Jareth smiled down at him. "Hello there, son."

The boy pointed a small, chubby finger at Jareth. "I know you," he said.

The woman wrapped an arm around the boy and looked down at him with a curious expression. "You do, Toby?"

Toby nodded and clutched his mother's leg tighter. "Mhmm. I don't remember much. But I remember him with Sawah."

The woman sighed. "I'd like it she'd tell me when she had dates."

The man smirked and pressed further. "I was wondering if I may speak to you for a moment, perhaps, about Sarah?"

The woman nodded enthusiastically, "Oh, of course, of course." She pushed the door open further and moved out of the way. "Please come in."

The successful man stepped in and she closed the door behind him. She stepped up to his side and held out a hand. "I'm Karen. I don't suppose Sarah has said much about me."

He gripped her outstretched hand. If she was surprised by the leather encased hand that grasped her bare one, she didn't show it. As she released his hand, she placed hers lovingly on the boy's head. "This is Toby, who you apparently already know."

Jareth smiled down at the boy and sat back on his heels so that he was at eye level with him. "I brought you a gift."

The boy's eyes widened beyond proportion drawing out a small chuckle from the man. "Is it Sawah's? Was she finally able to get me something?"

"It's from the both of us." The man flicked his wrist and allowed a crystal to appear on top of his fingertips. A small gasp of amazement came from the two other figures.

"What is it?" the boy asked in wonder.

"A crystal, nothing more," Jareth explained as he let it drop from his fingertips into the palm of his hand. With a practiced wave, he glided it over his fingers to rest on the back of his hand. Crossing his hands, he rolled the crystal between the backs of his hands, and then his palms before letting it come to a rest on his fingertips once more. He held it out to the boy. "Take it," he urged him.

Without a "thank you" or second thought, the young Toby snatched the crystal from the man's hands and ran out of sight trying replicate what he just saw.

"Toby!" Karen hollered after him. "Toby, tell him thank you!"

"Thank you!" echoed a small voice.

Karen turned back to Jareth as he stood from the floor. "How did you do that?" she inquired in wonder.

He smirked. "Years of practice."

She shook her head in amazement. "Why don't you come into the kitchen and I'll get you a nice cup of tea? We can talk about Sarah in there."

"That would be lovely," he said with a flourish, offering his arm to the woman.

She blushed gently and took it with a small smile. "It's this way," she stumbled out.

Jareth smirked as he followed her.  _It wasn't the same_ , he pondered. Her blush was nothing like Sarah's.

_Sarah…_

His thoughts briefly turned to the chestnut haired woman who had been upset with him earlier. He had simply wanted to enjoy her reaction, a simple brief revenge for the frustrations of this challenge. Was it so hard to understand?

 


	3. Midnight Kiss

Karen set a warm mug in front of him and sat down across from him with her own. "So what do you want to know?" she asked, blowing gently on her tea.

Jareth wrapped his fingers around the mug, enjoying the warmth. "Do you have any traditions? Around this time of the year?"

"Traditions?" the woman laughed. "Oh no, I couldn't handle anything more after Christmas ended."

"Does Sarah?"

She took a sip from her tea as her eyebrows scrunched in thought. "Not to my knowledge," she murmured over the warm liquid.

This wasn't going right. Things were proving more difficult than he had planned. "What about others? Other people? Other families?"

"It depends on the person, their family and friends." She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "Why the fascination with traditions?"

"I'm not originally from here."

"I can tell."

Jareth smirked. "Sarah challenged me to find a tradition during this time. It's proving most difficult, but I won't be daunted."

Karen smiled. "A match in mind and strong wills," she said softly. "I'm glad you found each other. She was getting so lonely living in that apartment by herself."

_As I was._

She cleared her throat, "Anyway, I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. The tradition really depends on circumstances."

He quirked an eyebrow. "How about a kiss?"

Karen gaped at him for a moment before succumbing into a fit of giggles. She gracefully put a hand over her mouth in attempt to quiet the noise.

The man frowned, not pleased with being laughed at.

The woman dabbed her eyes free of the moisture that was beginning to collect there. "Oh, I'm sorry. I really don't think I can help you there." She took a sip from her mug and set it down with a smile dancing across her lips.

"You know it, though, don't you?" he accused.

"Yes, but I fear Sarah wouldn't treat me to kindly if I made this challenge easy for you. And, if you are like her at all, you won't want it made easy either."

He huffed and crossed his arms.  _Why do women have to be so stubborn? And right?_

"How much time left to you have?" she inquired.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Nine hours and twenty –three minutes," he mused, a chord of familiarity striking in him.

"And you've made no headway?"

"No," he said simple. His mind rushing through the last few hours he spent observing people in the diner. Nothing stood out to him.

He huffed. If this woman knew, why didn't she just tell him?

_Because it wouldn't be a challenge then._

"I should be going," he said standing from the table. "I hate to impose on your lovely home further, and I really must get back to work."

Karen's mouth pouted slightly. "You have to work today?"

"Yes," he said with a smirk, "I'm afraid my job doesn't really allow for days off." He could already picture the state of disarray his throne room would be in.

She gave a small nod and stood up. "I'll lead you out."

Jareth followed Karen back to the front door. She opened it and ushered him out. He stepped out into the cold air and walked down the steps.

"I'm sure when the time comes, you'll figure it out. I wish you the best of luck!" she called after his retreating form.

_I wish…_

* * *

_What a wish,_  he cursed quietly as he lounged on his throne.

The best of luck wasn't helping him.

In fact, it seemed like he was having anything but the best of luck.

His goblins were a drunken, reeking and boisterous lot.

No matter how many couples he observed in his crystals, nothing showed him a tradition.

He sighed and conjured another crystal, summoning Sarah in its depths. He saw her small form bouncing around her apartment, straitening things up. Her eyes looked over at the clock on her wall.

"An hour left," she murmured with a smile.

Jareth crushed the crystal in his hand, shards spilled in a glittering dust over his body. With a sigh he stood up and brushed himself clean.

"An hour left," he echoed. Desperate to find the tradition, he brought himself to a snow covered park near Sarah's apartment. Conjuring an unneeded coat around his form to keep appearances, he stuffed his gloved hands in his pockets and ambled through the park.

* * *

The snow crunching under his feet was the only sound that filled the air around him. The dark night encased him in a lonely embrace as he gazed at the tall trees still adorned with white Christmas lights. He lifted his eyes to the sky and was greeted by the enthusiastic winking of stars, happy in their mirth and ignoring his lack of it.

He huffed and trudged further along the path, snow collecting at the hems of his pants. No couple was out. They were probably all indoors snuggled in each other's warm embrace, and here he was, out in the cold, all alone. His heart seized.

_Not alone. Not alone,_  he chanted to himself.

His feet brought him to a stone bridge over a small river that ran from a frozen pond. Compelled to walk over it, he did so and found himself face-to-face with the place where he had first laid eyes on her that day so many lonely years ago. A gentle smile pulled at his lips as he remembered her proud and defiant, hair pulled back, a flowing dress. He had watched as she recited those damned lines, not knowing the pain they would cause in a few short hours, the aching loneliness he'd be banished to, forced to simply watch.

Jareth tightened his long winter coat around him as he sat down on a snow covered stone bench near the little bridge. He leaned his head back and watched as his warm breath created a small cloud. The dark branches intertwined around him, fingers clasping together. He huffed and sat up and spied a young couple walking hand-in-hand past him, so lost in the other's eyes that his presence was lost on them. With another groan, he looked around the park at the still lighted trees.

Did everything have to remind him of Sarah? More importantly, of what she wasn't allowing?

A slight whisper on the wind caught his ears:  _I wish the Goblin King would take me to him._

What did she want now? To gloat in his face? To laugh at his shortcomings? To roll her eyes at his lack of wit in this challenge? Perhaps it was better to be alone. His fragile heart couldn't stand these games.

_No,_  he thought _, anything is better than loneliness._

With his resolve and a wave of a leather clad hand, a bundled woman appeared before him. From underneath the dark hood of her jacket her wonderful chestnut hair spilled forth and bright green eyes shown brilliantly. She truly was bewitching.

"It's about time," she huffed. "I thought you were going to ignore me."

"Believe me, my dear, I debated it," he replied tersely.

"Oh, now why the sullen expression?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile tugging at her lips.

Jareth crossed his arms, and looked up, fascinating himself with the light snow flurries that were beginning to fall. He heard her sigh and scrape her feet around in the snow.

"Were you able to figure it out?" she asked.

"No."

"Oh," she mumbled. Did he detect sadness in her voice?

He turned his eyes towards her slumped form, drawing circles in the snow with her foot, hands shoved deep in her jacket's pockets. "If you're so disappointed in your lack of a kiss tonight, you could always call this game off and admit defeat," he suggested playfully.

Her bright eyes flashed up to meet his. "And let you win by default? I don't think so Goblin King," she retorted.

He huffed and returned to marveling at the snow. There was some shuffling and he felt her warm body next to his side.  _Oh how wonderful she felt._

"Why do you insist on torturing me so?" he inquired.

"Think of it as payback for the cleaners. And I thought you enjoyed a little challenge." She paused briefly before continuing in a whisper, "Do you really have no idea?"

"If I did, do you think I'd be sitting here? Trust me, you'd already be in my arms if I had an idea, precious."

She let out a small laugh and he felt her body give an involuntary shiver.

He smiled to himself, taking pride in what he could do to her, but the smile quickly fled his face as another shiver racked her body. He turned his mismatched gaze from the falling snow to the bundled woman next to him.

"How are you possibly cold, precious?" he questioned.

Her face was hidden in the cowl of her hood, but he could feel her smiling. "I wasn't really thinking when I made that wish. I was standing in the middle of my apartment in jeans and a tank-top. I'm glad that it took you so long to grant my wish because I just thought to put on a coat when you brought me here."

He sighed and tsked playfully. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. What am I ever going to do with you? Really, I'm disappointed now. Losing your head so easily, for shame."

"Forgive me for wanting to be with you so much that my apparel wasn't my first thought," she bit out hastily. He could feel the warmth of her blush as she realized the words that she let slip from her tongue. "I-I mean," she tried to remedy.

"What's said is said," he laughingly replied.

The woman beside him huffed and crossed her arms. Jareth stood and held out a hand. "Come, precious. Let's get you to where it is warm."

She looked up at him with bright, shining eyes. "But it's so beautiful out here."

"But you're cold, and I won't have you freezing. Now come, precious."

Biting her lip, she reached out and ungloved hand. He grasped it and pulled her up. Her hands were freezing. "Sarah," he tried to admonish her but there was more sadness in his voice than he desired.

He wrapped her bare hands in his and brought them to his lips. Gently, he blew on them, trying to give some warmth to her stiff fingers.

"We're walking," she stated.

He looked up from there entwined hands and opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly cut him off. "If you want me to go back to my apartment, you have to let me walk there. It's no use arguing. I'm just as stubborn as you."

Jareth sighed.  _What had this girl done to him?_  "On one condition, precious."

"What?"

He smirked. "Ask nicely."

She smiled up at him. Her cream face was flushed red from the harsh bite of the winter wind. He struggled with himself to not conjure a crystal and bring them immediately to her apartment.

"Let's walk back, Jareth. Please?" she whispered softly.

A thrill went through his body as his name rolled so beautifully off her tongue. He entwined her arm through his and said, "Let's go."

She clung to his arm as he led her from the bench and across the stone bridge. He watched her as her eyes drifted out across the frozen pond and rested on a clock tower that was eagerly waiting to chime the new year. As the clock's face faded from view, her eyes shifted to the ground in front of her.

Jareth's heart broke at seeing her so forlorn, but she had put this on herself. She had damned herself to be kiss-less tonight.

_Dong._

"Happy New Year, sweetie!" Jareth heard a gruff voice exclaim in front of them.

He looked over to see the couple from earlier under a tree in front of them, their arms entwined around each other.

_Dong._

"Happy New Year, dear!" the girl exclaimed.

_Dong._

The happy couple leaned forward together and kissed with matched passion and fervor. Jareth curled his lip and looked away, continuing the trek back to Sarah's apartment.

_Dong._

They passed another couple whose lips were locked tightly together.

_Dong._

All of them torturing him with what should have been his, what should have happened. He scowled. Had she just wanted to cause him agony?  _Well,_  he thought ruefully _, she succeeded._

_Dong._

All kissing in front of him. Wait.

_Dong._

Kissing.

_Dong._

He spun on his heel and grasped Sarah's shoulders. Her wide, green eyes met his, her lips parted in surprise.

_Dong._

"I figured it out," he whispered. "You wanted me to figure it out didn't you?"

She smiled.

_Dong._

"You helped me. You cheated, precious."

"Are you upset?"

_Dong._

He smiled sadly. "No, but it appears I figured it out too late, precious."

"You still have two chimes remaining of midnight," she said with a wonderfully, thrilling smile.

_Dong._

Jareth returned her smile as he pulled her flush up against him. Wrapping his arms around her small frame, he pressed his lips to hers.

_Dong._

Midnight might be over, but damn it, he was still going to kiss her, and she didn't offer anything in protest.

The hood of her jacket slipped off her head as she tilted back into his kiss, and he took full advantage of it. Dashing the cold and practice aside, her pulled his gloves off and slipped his fingers into her long, chestnut hair. A buzz tingled his body at the feel of her soft hair against his skin, entwined between his fingers.

She moaned as his fingers massaged her scalp and she slipped her hands up his chest and around his neck and interlaced them behind it. She pulled herself deeper into him, melding her body to every contour of his.

Jareth growled against her lips and kissed her with renewed passion as it continued to build up in his heart. How had he managed to survive before she entered his life?

All too soon, their lips parted as they took deep breaths trying to soothe their aching lungs. The air around them quickly began to fog. Sarah slowly opened her dewy, green eyes and stared ardently into his. Her fingertips began to slowly draw circles against the skin on the back of his neck. Jareth smiled in pleasure and gently brushed his lips against hers again before moving them to her jaw. Slowly, he made a trail a gentle kisses up her jawbone to behind her ear and down her neck enjoying the taste of her sweet flesh. Until the jacket proved to be a fierce adversary.

"Damn this jacket," he muttered against her skin.

She laughed gently, and he could feel her body shake against his. "Come on," she said. "Weren't you so eager to get me to my apartment and out of this cold a moment ago?"

He pulled back from her lovely neck and looked down into her eyes. "Do we still have to walk?"

She puckered her lips in thought before pushing herself up on her toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his nose. "No," she said simply.

He smiled and consumed her lips with his in another fiery kiss as he brought them back to the living room in her apartment.


	4. A New Year

_Lonely no more._

Jareth tightened his grip on Sarah as he deepened the kiss and she moaned in a brief moment of pain against his lips. He loosened his grip and brought his hands to her front, caressing her lovely curves as he went. His fingers grazed the buttons on her jacket, and he quickly undid them, shoving the unwanted clothing off her shoulders and onto the floor.

"Jareth," she muttered against his lips as he clasped his arms once more around her waist.

He took advantage of her open mouth and darted his tongue in, tasting her and relishing it. He pulled up the hem of her tank-top and traced small circles with his thumbs against the smooth skin of the small of her back.

"Jareth, please," she muttered again, pulling back slightly.

He tightened his grip, digging his fingers into her skin and pushing their bodies together. Her hands wrapped around his shirt and began to push against him, creating a small space between them. The man growled in frustration and pulled her closer.

"Jareth, stop," she pleaded against his lips.

_Stop?_ How could he stop? She felt so wonderful. She tasted so wonderful. She was his, and she always would be. He wouldn't be lonely anymore. How could he stop?

"Stop. Jareth," panic began to creep into her voice.

What was she scared for? They were together, and he wouldn't leave her. She wouldn't be lonely. He moved his lips to her neck, pressing firmly against the soft flesh.

"Stop. Please, stop!"

Jareth pulled back to see the fear in her eyes. That's all those beautiful emerald orbs held: fear. Complete, unadulterated fear. His eyes gazed over the bright red marks that were beginning to blossom like red roses against her pale skin, her lips slowly starting to swell. He withdrew his hands from her skin and stepped back to examine them. Blood collected underneath his nails, staining them.

"Oh God," he muttered. The shaken man dared to lift his eyes to those of his precious who looked back at him with fear: a fear directed at him. "Sarah," he implored her, voice husky, reaching a hand out to her, but she recoiled from his touch.

His heart broke. All the pain he had felt in the past week at the fear of a rejection. All the pain he had felt when she had uttered those cursed words. All that pain was nothing. A single rain drop when combine compared to the torrent of pain, sadness and bitter heartache that crashed over him.

She feared him.

And she had a damn good reason to.

He had hurt her.

His precious Sarah, who desired an end to the loneliness they shared when separate.

He had hurt her with his bare hands.

The terrified woman wrapped her arms around herself and began to slowly back away from him, her eyes wide.

"Sarah, God, Sarah, I'm so sorry," he implored her. Not wanting to see the fear any more. He was supposed to be the one to remove that fear, not place it there.

"I," she licked her lips nervously, "I think you should go."

"Sarah," he took a step towards her, but she scuttled away from his form.

"Just go," she choked out.

He couldn't do anything but obey, and so he left her alone in her apartment and returned to his chambers. As mocking silence and loneliness closed in around him, he threw his fists against the stone wall, oblivious to the torn skin and blood that trickled down his wrists, and let out a heart wrenching cry.

He had ruined it.

He had been so damned worried about protecting his heart that he ignored hers.

The once proud and composed Goblin King crumpled to the floor and was reduced to fits of burning tears.

* * *

As the tears began to ebb, and his shoulders seized their racking, Jareth took a shuddering breath in attempt to calm himself.

_Ruined._

_It was all ruined._

The morose man sat up and leaned against the wall needing the unfailing support. He leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands.

_What have I done?_

_I've damned myself to loneliness, that's what I've done._

_And Sarah._

_Oh Sarah, what did I do to you?_

The fallen king lifted his head and brought a hand in front of his face. He wanted to see Sarah, make sure that she was alright, but he couldn't bring himself to conjure the crystal. She had asked for her to leave her. He had hurt her. He had no right to try and involve himself in her life anymore.

But he had hurt her. He had to make sure she was safe. He had to make sure she was comfortable, that she would be able to move on without him. He wouldn't be able to do anything for her, but he could at least look. He could watch her; keep an eye out.

It would be the ultimate torture: to watch. Never being able to talk, to be with her, to hold her in his arms again. He couldn't bring himself to do that.

But he deserved it. He deserved that damnation. And she deserved someone to look after her. He had failed her, but he would make amends. It might be from the shadows, but he would make amends.

With a reserved flick of the wrist, a clear crystal balanced on the tips of his fingers. Taking a shuttering breath, he conjured Sarah within its depths. Her small form lay strewn across her bed. The sheets tangled around her legs, and all but one of the pillows were discarded on the floor. Her chestnut hair spilled over the white sheets, and her brows scrunched together. A light flush painted her cheeks, and her lips muttered unheard words. The only pillow on the bed was clutched tightly to her chest.

His heart cracked even further. He couldn't sit here watching her when she was troubled. Without a thought on his appearance, he brought himself to her bedside. He knelt down and looked into her face.

She sighed and clutched the pillow closer to her. "Please don't," she muttered through swollen lips.

Jareth bit his lip to stop the cry of agony that was building up in his chest.  _What have I done to you?_

Sarah moaned quietly in her sleep and buried her face into the pillow. Her hair fell away from her neck and exposed the red marks that stained her skin.

Unable to control the urge to comfort that was rising in him, he reached out an ungloved and bloodied hand. He smoothed back the damp hair from her face.

The scarred woman before him sighed and leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering open. The moment her green eyes fell on him, he pulled his hand back and stood up. He turned his back to her. He wouldn't make her scared. That wasn't what he came here to do.

"Jareth?" she whispered behind him.

He clenched his eyes shut to prevent the tears that he felt damming up from leaking. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I just came to see if you were alright, pre—Sarah. I'll leave you now. You don't have to worry about me again."

He felt a small hand close around the sleeve of the winter coat he still had on. "Jareth," came a slightly stronger voice.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm going. I deserve the loneliness, but—but you don't. Please be happy," he pleaded in a hushed voice.

He felt her hand slid down his arm and grasp ahold of his hand. His heart fluttered as her slender hand slipped into his brushing their skin together. He heard her stand and her warmth poured into his body as she stepped up to his elbow. Before he could enjoy it, he steeled himself and tried to pull his hand from her grasp.

Sarah tightened her grasp and lifted his hand. She let out a small gasp and Jareth turned his watery eyes to look down at her eyes, glistening with tears as well. She lifted her other hand and gently ran her fingers over his bloodied knuckles. A small tear fell from her eyes as she whispered huskily, "Christ, Jareth. What did you do to yourself?"

He pulled his hand from her grasp and stuck it in his coat pocket. "Nothing of consequence," he muttered looking away from her.

"Nothing. Nothing of consequence?" she bit out. "Jareth you're bleeding! How's that-?"

"Compared to what I did to you it is nothing of consequence," he said turning to her, hot tears finally leaking through.

"Jareth—"

"Sarah, please," he began cutting her off.

"Don't," she whispered.

"Don't what?" he choked out passed the lump in his throat.

"Don't call me Sarah."

"Then what, I pray, am I supposed to call you?" he asked, frustration building up in him.

Her green eyes shifted away from him and silence was her response.

_How can she expect me to call her something else if she doesn't tell me—oh. Precious._  "Precious," he whispered.

Those beautiful, tear filled eyes turned back to him. "Yes?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, hot tears burned his eyes. "I'm sorry for being a damned fool and not thinking of your heart as well. But you don't have to worry about that anymore—"

"Shh," she whispered gently, reaching out a hand wiping away the tears tracing wet paths on his cheeks. "I forgive you."

Jareth reached up and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her hand away from his face and wrapped it in his lithe fingers. "I won't allow you to. I don't deserve it."

"We all deserve forgiveness, Jareth," she pleaded.

"I don't, not for what I did. How can I accept yours when I can't even forgive myself?"

"Stop running away," Sarah admonished, eyes blazing. "If you always run, if you never forgive yourself, you're going to stay lonely. And so am I."

"You'll find someone—"

"No. I don't want someone. I want you. You're not perfect, and neither am I. But we are perfect together."

"Precious—"

"No more running," she whispered firmly. "No more loneliness. No more separation. We work things out together." She raised her free hand and placed it on his cheek, rubbing her thumb in small circles. "You hear that? Together. A couple."

Jareth gave her a small smile and kissed her softly on the forehead. What had he done to get someone so wonderful as her? He must have done something good, something right at some point in his life. "Together," he whispered against her skin.

"You missed."

He pulled back and looked down at her face, brows pulled together in confusion. "Missed, precious?"

She smiled and pointed to her lips.

Jareth shook his head. "No," he said fiercely. "I hurt you."

"You did, but you won't again. I trust you," she said firmly.

He smiled sadly and traced her lips gently. "They're still swollen."

"Damn the fact that they're swollen and just kiss me already," she said fiercely.

Jareth stood stunned, taken aback by her ferocity.

Sarah huffed, grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips to hers. Jareth responded gently, wrapping his arms around her small form.

She pulled back slightly and murmured against his lips, "Get rid of this damn jacket and  _kiss_  me."

Jareth chuckled as he withdrew his arms quickly and pulled off his coat. In record time, his arms were back around her waist. He smiled and kissed her ears, her eyelids, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth.

She groaned. "Stop teasing me and just kiss me, damn it."

He smirked and pressed his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers snuck into his hair, pulling herself closer to him with unexpected ferocity. Jareth stumbled back, and the bed hit the back of his legs. His knees buckled and he fell backwards, dragging Sarah down with him.

She let out a squeal as she landed on him, she pulled back and looked at him with worried eyes. Jareth chuckled in response and pulled her lips back to his.

When they finally paused for breath, the chestnut haired woman nestled her head under his chin, and he tightened his embrace.

"Precious," he murmured fondly against her hair.

She smiled against his chest. "Don't every stop calling me that. And don't ever leave me."

"I'll be by your side," he promised, "until the world falls down, precious."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their story continues in "In Need of a Vacation"!


End file.
